(Verse 1)
Well, Wile E. packed his bags, thought he’d try his luck,
Left Arizona roadrunners in the dust, no fuss.
But he hit the Lone Star State, where the birds don’t run,
Texas Birds, they use guns, then they dance and have their fun.
(Chorus)
Texas roadrunners are just plain “high plains” killers!
They’ll kill your cattle, then hand you the bill.
They don’t fly, but they sure will make ya a steer,
Leave you stranded, sippin’ on your tears.
Might see one in the city, but they won’t wave,
Texas roadrunners bring coyotes to early graves.
(Verse 2)
Wile E. thought he’d lure him with a BBQ spread,
But the pitmaster grinned and shook his head.
“Son, you’re in Texas now, so here’s the drill—”
The roadrunner got free ribs, and Wile E. got the bill!
(Chorus)
Texas roadrunners are just plain killers!
They’ll kill your cattle, then hand you the bill.
They don’t fly, but they sure will make ya a steer,
Leave you stranded, sippin’ on your tears.
Might see one in the city, but they won’t wave,
Texas roadrunners bring coyotes to early graves.
(Bridge)
Wile E. bought a Texas map, thought he’d try to stay,
But every corner said, “Don’t mess with Texas, or you’ll pay.”
The tumbleweeds here move faster than him,
Even the chickens don’t let ol’ Wile E. win.
(Verse 3)
After three chases, the sheriff gave the bird a star,
Now Wile E.’s chances don’t go very far.
A roadrunner with a badge, bolo tie, and a grin,
Coyote’ll be in prison before the chase can begin!
(Chorus)
Texas roadrunners are just plain killers!
They’ll kill your cattle, then hand you the bill.
They don’t fly, but they sure will make ya a steer,
Leave you stranded, sippin’ on your tears.
Might see one in the city, but they won’t wave,
Texas roadrunners bring coyotes to early graves.
(Outro)
So if you’re thinkin’ ‘bout chasin’ birds down south,
You better watch your step, or shut your mouth.
‘Cause Texas roadrunners, well they don’t play,
They’ll do ya in quick and be gone the next day!
The Arizona coyote ambled into Texas, all bold,
But the roadrunners here, well, they’re stone cold.
Laid to rest by a bird too quick to see,
The tombstone reads: “Killed in Texas, R.I.P.
Wile E. Coyote thought he was all tough on TV.
Texas roadrunners are plain “high plains” killers!
Rest in Peace, Wile E. Coyote
Texas Roadrunners Are Just Plain “High Plains” Killers — Music and Lyrics by Alan Nafzger
Songwriter’s Notes About Wile E. Coyote Moving to Texas
If you think Arizona roadrunners are smart, the Texas RoadRunners are just plain (high plains) killers!
Wile E. thought he was tough in Arizona, but the Texas roadrunners didn’t just dodge his traps—they rewired them to blow up his house and leave a “Welcome to Texas” sign.
He tried to outsmart a Longhorn, but the bull just looked at him like, “Bless your heart.”
After getting run over by a herd of Longhorn cattle, Wile E. realized that Texas livestock have no respect for Acme rocket skates.
Wile E. set up an Acme anvil trap, but a Texas armadillo casually sauntered by and used it as a bench.
In Texas, even the armadillos are too tough to fall for his tricks. They don’t run—they sit, sip sweet tea, and watch him fail.
He tried lassoing a roadrunner, but ended up hog-tied by a Texas rattlesnake instead.
Apparently, in Texas, the snakes have unionized against cartoon coyotes. They even handed him a “Rattlesnake Local 101” membership card.
Wile E. discovered that Texas tumbleweeds move faster than his Acme jet-powered skateboard.
It’s hard to chase a roadrunner when even the vegetation outruns you.
He ordered a massive BBQ feast to lure the roadrunner, but the pitmaster just laughed and said, “Son, you’re in brisket country now.”
The pitmaster gave the roadrunner free ribs for life, and Wile E. was stuck with the bill.
After three failed roadrunner chases, the local sheriff deputized the bird.
Nothing says “you’re doomed” like trying to outsmart a law enforcement roadrunner with a badge and a bolo tie.
Wile E. thought he could hide in a cactus patch, but the Texas prickly pears hugged back.
The roadrunner zipped by laughing, while Wile E. tried pulling cactus needles out of his tail.
He switched tactics and tried building a fence… but the roadrunner already had a degree in ranch fencing.
Wile E.’s fence collapsed faster than you can say, “Everything’s bigger in Texas,” while the roadrunner sprinted right through, blueprint in hand.
In Texas, coyotes are considered pests, so the ranchers put Wile E. to work guarding chickens.
Unfortunately, the chickens ran him out of the coop—Texas chickens don’t play.
Wile E. tried to ride a wild mustang, but ended up being bucked straight into Oklahoma.
Apparently, he skipped cowboy orientation, and the horse had no time for his nonsense.
He sent an Acme dynamite order to blow up a bridge, but it got delayed because “Texas ain’t in no hurry, partner.”
By the time the dynamite arrived, the roadrunner had already started a side hustle selling “Failed Acme Traps” souvenirs.
Wile E. tried to drive a Texas truck, but it was so big he couldn’t see over the dashboard.
Instead of chasing roadrunners, he spent three hours trying to figure out how to park it at a Buc-ee’s.
Everywhere he went, folks kept telling him, “This ain’t Arizona, son.”
As if the Texas-sized roadrunners, BBQ culture, and rattlesnakes hadn’t made that painfully clear already.
He decided to buy a Texas map, but it only had one thing circled—“Don’t mess with Texas… or its roadrunners.”
Wile E. may be a super genius, but in Texas, the only thing he’ll catch is a boot in the rear and a slice of humble pie.
Wile E. in Texas
(by Alan Nafzger in 1986, Wichita Falls)
Wile E. packed his bags, bold and proud,
Left Arizona in a dust-filled cloud.
Thought Texas roadrunners were the same old game,
But the birds down here play by a different name.
They don’t run, they don’t dash in the sun,
These Texas birds pack heat and have fun.
With a grin, they fire and take their aim,
Leaving ol’ Wile E. with nothing but shame.
He set up his traps, Acme’s finest gear,
But even the snakes said, “You ain’t welcome here.”
A BBQ feast, he tried to set the bait,
But the roadrunner smiled and left him to fate.
The sheriff soon came, gave the bird a star,
Wile E.’s chances? They didn’t get far.
A roadrunner with a badge and a bolo tie,
Sent the coyote packing, with a tear in his eye.
So if you’re thinking of chasing birds down south,
Better shut your trap and close your mouth.
Texas roadrunners—they don’t just run,
They shoot, they laugh, and then they’re gone.
Now Wile E. rests, his tricks undone,
In the heart of Texas, beneath the blazing sun.
His tombstone reads, “He tried his best,
But Texas roadrunners laid him to rest.”
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